


The Boy Who Stole My Heart

by lightthornn



Series: Unsent Letters [2]
Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Wicked Powers Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M, More letters, SO SAD, Sad Herondale angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28643262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightthornn/pseuds/lightthornn
Summary: After Tessa tells Kit to write to Ty, he does, knowing he won't ever send it. He would never want Ty to see what he's written. There are times Kit believes one can be too truthful, and he is sure this is one of them.
Relationships: Tiberius Blackthorn/Kit Rook
Series: Unsent Letters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084445
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	The Boy Who Stole My Heart

Ty,

Tessa said that it might help to write a letter to you, even if I end up burning it in the end. I figured that I might as well try. 

It's hard to figure out what to say to you, Ty. Because there are so many things that I want to say to you. 

I don't regret leaving. Jem and Tessa are the best parents I could ever ask for. They love me and I love them. After having my father... it's nice to have a family that I know loves me. You never had to deal with that. Your parents, Julian, and your siblings always loved you. My father took care of me out of obligation. And then there's Mina, my sister. She took her first steps the other day. It was one of those moments when I leaned to the side, ready to whisper to you. 

That's the thing. We are 5,361 miles away from each other. Devon is a whole different world. You're eight hours behind me. While the afternoon sun is beating down on my face through my window, you're just now waking up. You might even be asleep still. Through all of those differences, you're always here. I can't get the memory of you out of my mind. Everything goes right back to you. I expect to wake up and open my door to you sitting on the floor, a book in your hand and smiling up at me. I'll watch Sherlock with Tessa and Jem, and I can hear you. "The book is better," you would say, pretending not to pay attention, but you would. 

We barely knew each other. I thought we knew each other for so much longer than we did. But we only knew each other for a few weeks. How is it that a few short weeks can be the best and the worst weeks of my life? You were a light in a dark tunnel, laughter when I didn't want to speak to anyone, love in a world I had been raised to hate and fear. But it was so hard, Ty. I found out my entire life was a lie, that I was a Shadowhunter, and then we were being thrown into London and I didn't know what to do. Then Livvy was dead, and her funeral happened, we were back in LA but you were hurting and I needed to be there for you, but then you wanted to bring her back and I knew it was an awful idea. But I would do anything for you. Then the Night happened. I found out about my faerie heritage and then I was gone. 

It all happened so fast, especially at the end. I wish we could go back to before that happened. 

We used to sit in your room when we were supposed to be asleep and we would laugh, not caring about what was happening. You would talk about an animal and I would listen, because every word that you said undid me at the core. Or spy on people with Livvy. I miss her. She visits sometimes, but never for long. She said that the necklace is helping. She can be away for longer than she could. We talk for a little while, and it's nice when she comes. But I can tell something is up. I never ask about you. She always tells me how you're doing anyway. 

I'm so glad that you're okay at the Scholomance. You deserve to be happy. I'm so glad that you get to do something you love. Livvy even said you have a lynx now! I know that you love it so much. Irene sounds lovely. 

The first few weeks here were so hard. I hardly knew Jem and Tessa, and I couldn't help but feel like an outsider. I never told you, but I always felt like one when I was with you and your siblings. You all clearly loved each other so much, and I was just this boy who didn't have a home. I always worried I was only allowed there because of pity. Until I was with you. 

You rocked my world, making me stumble and have to catch my bearings. 

And when I first got here, I felt so bad for leaving without saying a goodbye. Because you deserved that much. You like routine, and that wasn't giving you that. But the thing is, I had to take care of myself. If I had stayed, I would've been miserable. I was so worried about everything, and I felt like I was drowning and I had forgotten how to swim, because everything was still falling apart, even though I thought it couldn't break into pieces any smaller. 

We were fifteen. Fifteen, Ty. So young, not even old enough to see the world. It's been two years now, and I look back and wonder what let us be so broken when we were so young. We had our kid moments. You looking at a starfish like it was the only thing in the world, climbing up rocks, talking about Sherlock Holmes. I had mine, wanting to have cookies for dinner, staying up all night and making stupid jokes. And then we watched people die, and we did dark magic, and I fell in love along the way. 

I suppose it was inevitable. 

When I first met you, you held a knife to my throat. I knew that you could kill me so easily. Yet, all I could think was 'how beautiful'. And then I was living with you. Some might call it fate, saying we were meant to be. I don't believe in that. Us being pushed together was chance. One lucky spin on the wheel of life. For if my father had been on an errand, none of it would've happened. If you hadn't come with Julian and Emma, it wouldn't have happened either. Choices bring us to what happens. The butterfly effect. I wonder how different things would be if I had said something different to Emma when I met her for the very, very first time at the Market. 

Falling was a long ride with a few bumps along the way, but the bottom was something to be desired. 

There's just so much to love about you. When you smile, I all but melt into a puddle on the ground. Sometimes when I look at you, I wonder if I have those heart eyes cartoons have. I could listen to you talk until the end of my days and never grow bored. The way you look at the world is fascinating. You see things different from everyone else, and I sometimes wish I could step into your shoes for only a day. I wish I could see what you did when you looked at me. Would you see the boy who left without a trace and became nothing but a fond memory? Or would I see something else? 

It was scary, realizing I might like you. I had never even thought about feelings, much less liking another boy. There was a moment, at your sister's funeral. When I looked at you and almost thought about how beautiful you were. I decided that you were just elegant. I never liked thinking about the way you made me feel. Because it was something I had never felt before. Exhilarating and terrifying. I've figured it out now, and wonder how it wasn't obvious then. 

One day Jace told me Herondales love but once. He told me the story of him and Clary, and I've heard enough about Tessa and Will, and James and Cordelia, and Lucie and Jesse to know just how true that is. No matter how hard I may try, I will always love you. Even if I never see you again. Even if you forget about me, you will always be there. 

It happens so often. Me thinking of something to tell you and turning to tell you. How is it that it still happens? It's been two years. We've both changed so much, I'm sure. Who I was two years ago is almost a stranger. I was a scared kid who had yet to know what it was like to be loved.

Tiberius Nero Blackthorn, the boy who stole my heart. 

It hurt beyond words that night. I told you I loved you, and it was awful timing. For me, for you. We were upset and you were grieving. I'll never forget the look in your eyes. When I can't sleep at night, I see that look, and I wonder what it meant. There are times when I let myself hope. Hope for what can't be possible. 

Love is supposed to be the best thing of your life. It was for me. And it's the worst. Being here is like there is a whole in the shape of you, never filling unless you are there. It has been empty for two years now. What I would do for even the smallest look at you. 

Once, at the Shadow Market with Jem, I saw someone who I swore was you. Dark hair and headphones. Everything in me stopped and I was sure that I was never going to be able to breathe again. I don't know if I've ever been so scared. I'm terrified to see you again and at the same time I cannot bear the thought of living the rest of this life without you. 

The London Institute is the worst. I walk into the library and wander to the Sherlock Holmes books. I stare at them for a time you cannot count, and I run my fingers over the,, thinking that one time, you too stood where I was. 

For a long time, I wished that I could hate you. I never could. I never will be able to. 

I finish this letter, and I fold it, already going to find the nearest fireplace, but I am sure that I will imagine you reading it nonetheless. 

Until we meet again, and to never being parted again. 

Love,

Kit 


End file.
